


Attraction, Lust, Love and Other Crazy Things

by WrathoftheStag (Mwuahna)



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hannibal cast - Freeform, Hannibal in Love, M/M, Team Sassy Science, love is love is love, the gang is all here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-09
Updated: 2016-11-09
Packaged: 2018-08-30 01:52:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8514109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mwuahna/pseuds/WrathoftheStag
Summary: A Hannibal examination on the many faces of love. (A.K.A., the gang's all here and in love!)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Devereauxs_Disease](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devereauxs_Disease/gifts).



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_“We love the things we love for what they are.” - Robert Frost_

* * *

**Beverly and the Shooting Range Dude**

“Did you sign in your weapon?”

“Of course. I always do.”

“True, but I feel like I should still keep you on your toes.”

Beverly smirked, as she reached for a pair of safety goggles. The exchange Bev just had with Phil, the guy working the shooting range at the bureau, was as close to a date Beverly had had in ages.

Phil smiled and buzzed her in, the door to the range unlocking.

“Thanks,” she said as she walked inside, sliding past Phil.

“Absolutely, Agent Katz.” 

Beverly entered, feeling particularly peppy. Most days she felt tired, overworked, underappreciated and as though she constantly smelled like a corpse. So it was certainly nice to have a little attention thrown her way. And Phil sure looked cute in his jeans and FBI t-shirt – boy did he know how to fill those out nicely. Just then she heard her name being called from within the cavernous range. 

“Agent Katz!”

She turned, and saw Phil approaching with a quick jog.

“Yeah?”

“You forgot these,” he said holding out a pair of shooting earmuffs. “You don’t want those 140 decibels to get you.”

“Oh, thanks,” she said as she was about to reach for them.

Phil then leaned in and gently placed them over her head. He gave her a warm open smile that Beverly felt like a drop of honey falling to the bottom of her stomach. 

“Here you go. All set,” he said.

She nodded, feeling a slow warmth spread throughout her limbs. Phil turned to walk back to the front office. 

“Nice jeans,” Bev said to herself – not realizing it came out louder than intended thanks to the earmuffs.

Phil turned around and smiled, “Thanks for noticing.” He continued to the office with a bit more swagger in his walk.

Beverly’s shooting accuracy had never been worse, nor had her smile ever been that big.

* * *

**Hannibal and Mischa**

“How did he get up there, Mischa?”

She shrugged and pointed again.

“I should call, papa,” Hannibal said as he looked up the tree while the cat looked down at them with complete and utter disdain.

“No, Hanni. Don’t! Papa will be angry at Medus. No, Hanni. No,” she called out as she gripped her brother’s sweater.

“But how can we get him down?”

“Throw a rock at him?”

Hannibal laughed, “Mischa, that is mean.”

“But he’s a dumb cat,” Mischa said matter of factly.

“Yes, but he’s _our_ dumb cat.”

“I don’t want him to die or get hurt!” she said suddenly as tears began to form.

Once Hannibal saw that, all logic went out the window. The second Mischa was in distress, Hannibal instinctively felt the need to protect and comfort her. And so it was that 8-year-old Hannibal found himself attempting to climb up the narrow birch tree to bring down their idiot cat that hadn’t even bothered to care he was currently stuck in a tree.

“Medus! Come down at once,” Hannibal called as he shimmied up the skinny limbs.

Medus, petulant as always, flounced his tail and ignored Hannibal’s pleas.

Hannibal hung, like a tiny orangutang, from one of the branches almost reaching Medus who then took the opportunity to rise and walk across Hannibal’s hands before jumping from one branch to another and another until reaching the ground, and casually strolling to Mischa.

Hannibal swung his body to try to catch another limb, which instantly cracked sending Hannibal plummeting to the ground. With a loud thud, Hannibal landed on his bottom, fighting back the tears.

Mischa ran to Hannibal, Medus in arms, “Hanni! Are you all right?”

He stood up slowly, rubbing his bottom, “Yes, I am.”

“Oh, Hannibal. You did it! You rescued Medus.”

Hannibal frowned at Medus, and then gave him a tiny boop on the nose, “Yes, and he thanked me by almost making me die.”

Mischa giggled, “No, you won’t die. You’re a little boy, and little boys and little girls don’t die.”

Hannibal smiled and got up. He put his arm around Mischa and said, “Let’s take Medus inside before he gets into more mischief.”

* * *

**Chiyoh and the Babe**

What did anything mean before that moment? It was just an empty existence. Like Plato’s shadows in the cave wall: a weak imitation of life, not true, not essential. Not like now.

Chiyoh never considered herself maudlin, never soft hearted, but seeing this human being placed in front of her, for the first time ever she understood what truth meant, what complete sacrifice meant, what unconditional love and acceptance was. Whatever she felt for Hannibal all those years ago, felt ridiculous and paled in comparison. 

Here before her was the love of her life – and they had only just met.

Holding her newborn daughter in her arms, under a full moon in a tiny house deep within a quiet jungle in Chiapas, surrounded by women who supported her during this mysterious journey to motherhood, Chiyoh realized she no idea what love was until now.

 _"¿Cómo quieres llamar la niña?”_ The midwife asked her for a name, as she pressed a cold washcloth to Chiyoh’s forehead.

“Mischa…” she said with a smile. “Mischa Bella.”

* * *

**Jimmy and Brian**

The doorbell rang, and Brian groaned. He had every mind to just ignore it, as his shivering grew more intense by the minute.

“Go away and let me die…” he said mumbled.

The doorbell rang once again. Brian felt his eyes begin to close slowly. He couldn’t remember ever being this sick. Was it the flu? Bubonic plague? He had no idea – all he knew was that he wished the Ripper would crawl through his window and put him out of his misery.

The pounding on his door roused him out of his temporary stupor. 

“Zee! It’s me. Open the door.”

“Jimmy?”

Brian slowly sat up, and got out of bed. Instantly feeling woozy the second his feet hit the floor. When he finally made it to the door, he saw Jimmy’s face pressed against the window. Brian weakly opened the door, and Jimmy burst in ladened with shopping bags.

“What are you doing here?” Brian croaked out.

“You’re obviously on death’s door and have no one to take care of you. So here I am, ready to take care of you.”

He pushed Brian aside as he began to unpack his bags taking out Gatorade, containers of soup, honey, lemons, sorbet, Nyquil, and more.

“You’re taking care of me?” Brian asked, beginning to sway back and forth.

“Yes, you viral-ridden motherless child,” Jimmy said as he led Brian to the couch and lowered him down. He returned with some Nyquil and gave it to Brian.

Brian then curled up into a tight fetal position, as Jimmy left the living room and returned with a thick blanket, covering Brian, tucking it in at the sides. Jimmy turned on the television and put on some cartoon.

“Here, background noise will soothe you…I think I read that somewhere. Or I just made it up.”

Brian nodded, as he walked the line between consciousness and unconsciousness. The last thing he remembered was seeing Jimmy at the stove.

When he woke a few hours later, he found Jimmy laughing watching Family Feud. “Good lord, some of these families are total idiots,” he said to himself.

“Jimmy?”

“Hey! There he is. How’s my little guy?”

“I don’t know. Alive, I guess?”

“You ready for some soup?”

Brian sat up, feeling damp, as his fever began to break. “Sure.”

“Do you think you feel like taking a bath or a shower?” Jimmy asked as he began walking to the kitchen.

“Maybe later?”

“Okay, just let me know.”

Brian looked around the living room. Jimmy had taken to straightening it up, the clutter was gone, garbage had been tossed. The curtains were drawn and the afternoon sunlight poured in. Jimmy approached Brian and handed him two Tylenol and a large glass of Gatorade.

Brian looked up at Jimmy, and took the pills into his hands, “Thank you.”

Jimmy nodded and smiled.

“No, I mean…thank you.”

Jimmy blushed and walked to the kitchen for the soup.

* * *

**Bella and Jack**

Unknowingly, he had grown accustomed to pausing at the doorway to listen before walking into their bedroom. If he heard her breathing, he knew everything would be fine for a little while longer. If he didn’t…well, he hadn’t gotten that far yet. When Jack realized this had become a habit, it horrified him yet still he always found a bit of comfort in the unconscious routine.

Bella’s quiet exhale served as permission; a gentle and shallow inhale and exhale, welcoming him in one more time, _yes, please come in darling_.

This morning, however, it was her voice that granted permission.

“I can feel you at the door,” she called out softly.

He smiled and walked in, “There’s the Bella, _bellissima_ as always.”

She frowned for a moment, but then smiled. “Charmer,” she called out to Jack.

The hospice nurse had just left, and gave Jack a little blue book called Gone from Sight. It was a hospice standard. He read it once, and tossed the book on the kitchen counter. He had no need to imagine Bella gone from his sight. 

Bella gently pat the bed, inviting Jack on. 

She’d never be gone from his sight.

“What do you want to talk about today?” he asked, and he intertwined his fingers with hers.

“Do you remember the first time you asked me out to dinner?”

Jack laughed, “Yes. You said no.”

Bella smiled, “That’s right – I did. Well, then do you remember the second time you asked?”

Jack nodded, and said, “Yes, and you said no that time as well.”

“But the third time?”

Jack looked at her, and stroked her face, “The third time you said yes.”

“Do you know why I said no the first two times?”

Jack grinned and said, “Maybe you were too busy fighting off all the other poor jerks chasing you?”

“No,” she said, as she softly squeezed his hand. “I said no because I knew.”

“What?”

“I knew you were the one…and I was afraid.”

Jack stared at the cushion at the foot of the bed, following the chevron pattern with his eyes even as they welled with tears. 

He looked at Bella, and she smiled. “I’m glad I said yes.”

He held her hand, until she fell asleep, and listened to her breathing for the rest of the evening.

* * *

**Frederick Chilton**

“You are the best because you are you.”

He smiled warmly, and inhaled deeply, then continued, “You are intelligent, well dressed, have an excellent pedigree, are well liked – and envied – by your peers. Your sense of humor is top notch and well, there is no one else like you out there. Anywhere.”

He looked in the mirror and smiled approvingly at his own reflection as he relocated an out-of-place hair back into its proper place.

Cufflinks on, signet ring shiny, pocket square in a perfect 3-stair fold; Frederick was ready to begin his day.

“Go get them,” he whispered, giving himself one final glance in the mirror.

* * *

**Will and Hannibal**

“And then?” Will asked, as he curled in deeper into Hannibal’s side while they lounged on the sofa.

“And then you said, ‘How do you see me?’ Your cute brow was quite furrowed.”

Will wrinkled his nose and said, “And you replied…”

“The mongoose I want under the house when the snakes slither by,“ Hannibal answered, voice momentarily serious then softened as he added, “I was very dramatic, wasn’t I?”

“Yes. You scared the shit out of me,” Will replied with a smile, and then buried his head in Hannibal’s neck, breathing in the scent of him. 

“I wanted to impress you, not frightened you,” Hannibal said.

Will laughed, and rubbed his foot on Hannibal’s leg, “You know how intense you can be. Why in the world you thought that would impress me was beyond me.”

“And yet here we are,” Hannibal said and then planted a kiss on the top of Will’s head.

“Okay, your turn. What do you want to hear next?” Will asked as he looked up toward Hannibal. 

“Let’s see. Tell me once again about the times you realized you were in love with me,” Hannibal said, looking at the ceiling – already feeling swoony.

Will chuckled, “Fine, you big romantic. Part of me had always known, always – but I was too far up my own ass to even see.”

“The times you came close to realizing?”

“Yes, when I saw you save that man’s life in Silvestri’s ambulance; when I thought Tobias Budge had killed you…”

Hannibal counted each time off on his hand, holding up two fingers as Will continued.

“When we ate those stupid ortolans and all I wanted to do was eat you…”

Hannibal’s eyebrow raised as he held up another finger.

“When I saw the anguish on your face, in your kitchen, on that night we do not mention…”

“We are mentioning it now,” Hannibal protested.

“Yes, but it’s okay in this instance.”

Hannibal nodded and said, “Continue.”

“Well, when I built a goddamn boat to sail across the Atlantic to find you in Italy.”

“That was very, very romantic,” Hannibal sighed.

“Yeah, so was the Uffizi up until you decided to slice my head open.”

“If I recall, you dropped your forgiveness,” Hannibal called out in protest.

Will laughed, “Anyway, let me continue…how many is that? What number are we on?”

“Five – no, six,” Hannibal as he held up both hands, six fingers. “I may run out of fingers, Will. Shall I remove my socks?”

“Shush,” Will said as he reached back to smack Hannibal’s thigh. “Where was I? Oh, and when I finally asked she-who-shall-not-be-named if you were in love with me.”

“And she said?”

“She spewed some pretentious Dante bullshit…but what I will never forget is how I felt as though the entire room had gone black. It was as if I was in some darkened tunnel where only you appeared as the light at the end of it – leading me to your love. And at that moment, I knew for sure.”

“And you broke me out of prison,” Hannibal said as he squeezed Will into a tight hug.

“Yes, and I broke you out of prison.”

“Love is strange and crazy thing, Mongoose.”

“Absolutely.”

“I love you, Will.”

“I love you, Hannibal.”

**Author's Note:**

> Happiest of birthdays to my Murder Bestie whom I adore! She’s the bee’s knees and I’m so happy to have her in my life. Have a fantastic birthday, [Devereauxs_Disease](archiveofourown.org/users/Devereauxs_Disease/pseuds/Devereauxs_Disease). Here’s a little something for you.


End file.
